To Grow a Legend
by etienneofthewestwind
Summary: George Foyet plots the downfall of SSA Aaron Hotchner.  Spoilers for "Omnivore".


**To Grow a Legend**  
><strong>by étienneofthewestwind<strong>

**Disclaimer:** I own neither the characters nor the dialogue quoted from the episode "Omnivore".  
><strong>Summary: <strong>George Foyet plots the downfall of SSA Aaron Hotchner. Spoilers for "Omnivore".

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><p><em>"He´s just a man. Nothing more."<em>

_"Then why can´t you catch him?"_

"_We will."_

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><p>As the feds drove off, George smirked after them. They had eaten up sick, wimpy George without doubt or hesitation. He chuckled as he sat down and thought of how, yet again, <em>he <em>controlled the investigation.

Damn. That fact got boring quickly when no one else knew it.

George wistfully thought back to the first time he encountered Agent Hotchner. It was ten years ago, when his first killings held the entire city of Boston in his grasp. People shuddered at just the mention of The Reaper. The police scoured the city, never dreaming all their leads came straight from The Reaper himself. So, the police turned to the experts on how serial killers think.

As if George were anything so pedestrian as a mere serial killer.

Two days later, Hotchner had called and asked to interview him. Always eager to talk about The Reaper´s skillful power, George had naturally accepted.

If the agent who came by today was a muscled and fattened barrow, the man George met then was a clumsy, underweight piglet. It would not surprise George if that were the first time his federal minders let him off the farm alone.

Oh, it had not been obvious at the time. George would grant Hotchner that. But the agent´s face then allowed more fear, uncertainty and misdirected pity to escape his stony mask. The only thing today's Hotchner had revealed was that damned arrogance. That misguided certainty that he_ could _catch George before George willed it.

Well, George would just have to do something about that, wouldn´t he?

And he had the perfect plan.

George returned to the kitchen. He pulled out the drawer Rossi had stood next to, and smirked at the memory. What would the famed author think if he knew that he had stood practically on top of The Reaper´s mask?

George ignored said mask in favor of pulling out his copy of the letter he´d mailed to Shaunessey and the critical issue of the _Michigan Post_. George knew that the one he had sent to Shaunessey lay in Hotchner´s grasp. No other reason could explain his visit to Shaunessey´s deathbed. Hotchner had chafed too much at Shaunessey´s post-deal restrictions to consider the detective a friend.

At the time, George had debated calling Shaunessey on his little insurance plan. Clearly the detective had doubted George´s commitment to their vows. Still, Hotchner had proven amusing, and his piddling efforts to complete a profile had been meaningless without an investigation to follow it up.

He placed the newspaper page on his scanner. George snickered as he remembered the expression on Hotchner´s face as he stormed away from Shaunessey´s. Clearly the agent disagreed with Shaunessey´s acceptance of the deal. Well, it was worth letting him see the deal from another perspective. Of course, all Hotchner could do was pull the FBI out of things. Sergeant O´Mara would still head his investigation. But such a move followed by Coulson´s scoop, would lump him in with Shaunessey in the public´s eye. Hotchner could kiss his precious career goodbye—At the very least. Some creative prosecutor might find a way to level charges. And there were always lawsuits. Making Hotchner pay remuneration for the increased distress of The Reaper's only surviving victim held appeal.

Though, that would increase George's wait for his deserved recognition.

And in the likelihood that Hotchner had blabbed about George and Shaunessey´s vows, and could not make his own deal… A grin spread across George's face as he thought about the sheeple blasting Hotchner for not making his own deal. All it would take was one dramatic gesture just late enough to miss the morning edition.

George licked his lips as he cut up the photocopy of the _Michigan Post_. He really hoped Hotchner would reject the deal. Either way, George's legend would grow while Hotchner´s delusions of boarhood would crash in flames. But that damned bus driver really got on George´s nerves.

Besides, after a ten-year dry spell, killing had regained its thrill. George would rather not give it up yet.


End file.
